


the last great american dynasty

by dankobah



Series: GLU (Gatorade Literary Universe) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, F/M, Politics, Pregnancy, a treat if you will, consider this a...softer au of the au, election, excited mother rey, read the first part bc you will not understand this part lmao, rich people being grossly rich, worried father ben solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: Sage green consumes her vision from the paint swatch cards the nursery decorator brought over.Ben asks, as he watches her stare, “We could do a nice strong blue you know.”Rey snorts,“Your mother would adore our baby in democrat colors, wouldn’t she.”orwhat if Rey got pregnant afterchapter 8of”i’m winning so they had to dump the gatorade (i don’t give a fuck about my family name)”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Bazine Netal, Finn/Rose Tico, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: GLU (Gatorade Literary Universe) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945303
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	the last great american dynasty

**Author's Note:**

> **an explanation and warning!**  
>  if you have NOT read [chapter 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289739/chapters/53635606) of [”i’m winning so they had to dump the gatorade (i don’t give a fuck about my family name)”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289739/chapters/43287239), then please do NOT proceed. this is an alternate storyline/timeline for the gatorade universe, one i really wanted to explore as a parallel to the main canon story. this is optional content, in case any of the matter is triggering for you! there is no necessary requirement for this to be read to understand the other fic or its trajectory.
> 
> tags:  
> verbal altercation between Hux, Bazine, Rey, and Ben  
> pregnancy  
> charity balls  
> room service mention  
> food consumption  
> vomit mention (morning sickness)  
> taking a pregnancy test

She’s sick on Super Tuesday (and the week before).

Violently ill, holed up in one of the gender-neutral campaign office bathrooms and puking her guts out. She feels awful because Rose and Finn are visiting from Vermont and she’s already dragged them to the campaign office because she missed Ben. Now she’s barfing in the bathroom.

There’s a knock on the door and Rey sniffles, wiping her eyes and seeing black mascara come off on her knuckles. “Fuck.” She opens up the door, and Ben stands there with the most concerned expression.

“Hey-” He walks past her into the bathroom, slamming the door. He drops a drugstore bag in the sink and rifles through it, picking out Dramamine, Gatorade, and finally the worst item of all: Clear Blue digital pregnancy tests.

Rey begins shaking her head and Ben replies, “Just take one of them, give me some peace of mind.” He sounds pleading and Rey swallows down the lump in her throat. Then she looks down at her stomach, and back up at him.

She asks, as quiet as a mouse and just as afraid, “What if I am?”

Ben responds, “Then we’ll take it one step at a time. I highly doubt it though, you have a hormonal form of birth control.” He opens up the box for her and she lifts her dress to sit on the toilet, after flushing it and wiping the seat as a precaution. Then he hands her a test and she pees where she’s supposed to, letting the stream saturate it before capping it and setting it on the edge of the sink. 

Rey asks, “How long does it take?”

“Three minutes.” He chews on his thumbnail and Rey still sits on the toilet.

It feels like the longest three minutes of her life but when his phone timer goes off, Ben grabs it. She watches his face carefully. His eyebrows raise high, then furrow, then he squints and shakes the test.

“What does it say?”

Ben swallows and his voice is kind of high when he says, “Look for yourself.” He hands her the test and bites his lip, clearly sweating.

The test reads one word:  **Pregnant.**

Lots of things run through her mind but the defining thought is  _ fuck _ . She looks up at Ben, who looks absolutely catatonic. Rey grabs for her stomach and looks down, turning and twisting every which way. “It can’t be-”

Ben replies, “It is.” Rey pulls up her panties and stands up from the toilet, pressing flush and smoothing out her skirt. She stares at Ben, who only looks at the floor.

“I…” He looks up at her, and his hands are trembling. He looks afraid, and she feels the same. 

“It’s supposed to be impossible.”

Rey swallows and shrugs, “I need to see a doctor clearly to review options but I probably need to have the implant removed.”

“I want to go with you.” 

She looks up and he grabs for her hand, “Let me go with you. You don’t need to do this alone, Rey.”

She nods, “Okay, I would like to go to one in Boston if possible.” She doesn’t know if the Organa-Solo-Skywalkers have some special on-call doctor they would want her to use. 

“Whatever you want. I’ll even make the appointment for you.” He strokes through her hair and Rey feels vomit rise in her throat and she whirls around to upchuck into the toilet. He holds her locks back and she vomits out her fear and pain until she’s dry heaving.

Ben still holds her hair as she stands up, and she stumbles to the mirror in her extra tall Louboutins. Luckily she got no vomit on her polka dot puff sleeve dress, hitting to about her knees. Her leather jacket is in the other room, along with her purse in Ben’s assigned cubicle that he does not fit in. Rey wipes away smeared mascara and Ben comes up behind her.

“We’ve only got a couple of states left but she’s doing good. Smashing it, as the kids would say.” She looks back and that makes her laugh. 

He asks, “What?”

“You’ve never sounded more like an old man than by saying that.” He rolls his eyes at her before leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

Rey freshens up a little more before stepping out of the bathroom with him, shamelessly. No one comments, based on the fact that Ben would rip their head off. The couch is still open except for Finn and Rose and she plops down next to them.

“You alright?” Rose looks concerned and Poe is hurriedly typing on his phone as the coverage comes in. Ben stays near her, still watching the television as the results show up. 

Rey answers, “I’m fine, it’s nothing.” 

The lie leaves her lips easily and eventually, she’ll explain. 

For now, as she settles her hand on her belly, it’s their secret.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Rose and Finn are staying with them and Ben seriously contemplates asking them to go to a hotel for the night.

Not because he wants to be a dick, but he needs his space with Rey without worrying about prying eyes and ears. He decides against it eventually and when they get back from drinks (that Rey abstained from), it all hits him enough to say a quick goodnight and lock himself in  _ his _ bedroom.

Rey stays downstairs to entertain them for a while while he panics in his room, unable to think about anything but the fact that Rey is pregnant and it’s his. He never expected to be a father so soon and he doesn’t have a good role model on how to parent. His parents were both absent growing up, busy with the lives they didn’t want to give up for Ben. 

What is he supposed to do with a child? Mold it? Shape it? What if he’s not nearly a role model that he would want for them? Ben is sick to his stomach and he hiccups over the lump in his throat.

There’s a knock at the door and he wipes his eyes, feeling moisture come off onto his hands. He walks to it and unlocks it, opening it up to Rey.

She looks so tired and still a little green. Rey looks him up and down before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

He takes her in his arms, hugging her tight and feeling her bury her face into his chest. “We’re in this together.” 

Rey sighs and he holds her at arm’s length. “Let’s talk about it while we get ready for bed, okay?”

She nods, and he lets her go, watching her walk away to her bedroom. After looking back to his old, empty bedroom, he walks into Rey’s warm and cozy room. She’s flipped on the gas fireplace and soft Hozier is playing in the bathroom.

He undresses and calls to her, “It’s not that I don’t want it.”

Before she can misinterpret that, “I just feel like I’m not ready to be a father. But…”

She’s watching him in the mirror and he continues, “But shit happens and you’re my wife, and I’m here to support you and our marriage every step of the way.” Rey washes her face and pats it dry, then turning around and walking out to him. 

She looks guilty and the feelings become apparent when she speaks, “This is my fault.”

He reaches out and touches her still-flat stomach, “Takes two to make a human.” She snorts and then walks to her closet to change into sleep clothes. Ben goes to the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth, feeling drained from the day.

He wants to take tomorrow off but there are campaign things to be done. It’s all a huge inconvenience right now, and he only means the campaign. What he wouldn’t give to give Rey a semblance of a normal pregnancy, knowing that this campaign stress might fuck up her entire view of the act of carrying a child.

He says, “You know I’ll be here no matter what you need right? Even if you decide to step back from the campaign.”

She shushes him and replies, “I’m not stepping back from the campaign. Not yet anyways. Maybe when I get as big as a beach ball.”

He swallows at the thought of that, of her round with his child. Of baby showers, parenting books, baby clothes, spit up, sleepless nights, and the cutest creation someone could make with their chromosomes.

Ben can’t wait for it, on second thought.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

**Twelve Weeks**

It’s surprisingly impossible to hide their little secret. 

Her belly has rounded a little, hips a little wider, and she’s trying to accommodate for the new little life that’s coming into their lives. 

Her breasts are sore, belly achy, and her mood is a bit sour as they re-enter their hotel room in New York. They’re hammering out another rally here so Hux doesn’t have the satisfaction of conquering New York. It is a democratic state after all; there’s no way he’s going to flip it red. 

Ben follows close behind her and Rey takes the trench coat off the Alice and Olivia dress she’s wearing. It’s a pale yellow, and it has a ruffled and flouncy skirt that covers up her midriff effectively.

He’s taking off his tie and watch, then removing his cuff links and looking over at her. “Room service?”

She nods and pulls out her pajamas, resigned to the fact that the days of going out with Poe after rallies are no more. She knows hiding why she can’t drink will be impossible with his probing, and she doesn’t need her pregnancy getting to Leia. She doesn’t know how long she’ll wait to tell her; only that she’s a pussy about it. 

She reaches behind her to take off her dress as Ben starts to flip through room service, reading off the menu like a scholar would. “Kids Menu, advised for under 12.”

“No offense but I need adult portions, Ben.” She raises her brows and he clicks his tongue.

“Touché darling. How’s four cheese mac and cheese sound?” 

She salivates at the thought of it and nods, “That. I’m wet just thinking about it.” 

He snorts and continues to look through the menu for something more sophisticated than her mac and cheese party. “Wet, huh?”

It’s not Ben’s fault but Rey’s been generally disinterested in sex with all the stress going around. They’ve forgone it for a solid week, and she hasn’t even masturbated at all. She responds, “Wet.”

He picks up the phone and Rey puts on her pajamas, a black silk number that she got herself for Christmas. She brushes her hair out of her face as she tugs the bottoms up, waistband snug around her stomach. 

Then she gets into bed, neglecting washing off her makeup in opt of forcing herself to stay awake for food. Ben orders steak for himself, the rich fuck, and her mac and cheese. “Thank you so much.” He hangs up the phone, and Rey reaches out to stroke through his hair.

“How’s the bun in the oven?” 

She replies, “Hanging out.”

Ben nods and presses a kiss on top of her stomach, caressing the side of it. He’s obsessed with her, even if no sex is involved. He’s constantly around her, ready to catch her if she even so much as stumbles. He’s taking his daddy duties more seriously than she could’ve ever dreamed, and feeling so cared for and loved is a new feeling for a girl who grew up so mistreated.

She never imagined she’d be creating life, let alone with a man like him. She whispers, “You know, I hope they have your nose.”

Ben looks up, and wrinkles the spoken appendage. “God, why would you wish that on a baby?”

She laughs out loud and shrugs, “I adore your nose. Sue me.”

He says, “I might for that atrocity.” He leans his head down again and pushes her pajama top back to get better access to her belly. He trails kisses along the beginning of the swell.

He remarks, “I personally am gunning for you to share your eyes with them. Chartreuse green is a gorgeous color.” She giggles, blinking slow and holding back a yawn. She knows she needs to stay awake for food, but it’s so impossible when she’s so exhausted by the day.

Ben traces over her small belly slowly, occasionally kissing the neglected sides and smiling to himself. “Have they moved yet?”

She gives him a look, “You know from your app that you won’t feel that until later.”

He shrugs, “My kid may be an overachiever. You never know, huh?” He sits up and stretches his muscular arms over his head, popping his back with a sigh of relief.

“Should I be worried, old man?”

He glares, “You better stop with the old man nickname if you know what’s good for you.”

She snorts, “You can’t harm a hair on my pretty head sexually while I’m carrying your child, remember? You said so when I asked you to spank me.” She won’t stop holding it over his head, mainly because his worry wart personality can be laughable for the amount of reckless shit they find themselves in daily. The gun threats against the campaign have been intense, enough for bulletproof windshields to become a necessity. Also beefed up security, even though she has her own guard dog always next to her.

“You’ll never let that go, huh?” 

She checks her manicured nails, sliding off the wedding band and huge engagement ring and setting them on the hotel nightstand beside her. 

She snorts, “Absolutely not.” 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

**Thirteen Weeks**

Dancing with Ben is like gliding on ice on knifepoint; dangerous but ultimately graceful upon viewing.

A big band is playing on a stage behind them, a marble inset dance floor beneath her Alexandre Vauthier white pumps. They pinch her feet less than Louboutins, and comfort is becoming paramount for her budding pregnancy already.

Ben chews nicotine gum as they glide, the bright blue organza fabric of her skirt whispering across the marble. The dress is nipped in at the waist and cinched with buttons, and thankfully her bump isn’t too noticeable yet. No one seems to be speculating or looking, no questions being asked. 

She’s wearing a rented Harry Winston diamond necklace, a huge rock on her neck that earns stares for the simple fact of being audacious. Ben rationalizes she’s allowed to drip in diamonds if she so chooses; it’s his money and he at least pays taxes, unlike the people they’re up against.

After their disastrous dance at their wedding, Leia insisted on putting them into ballroom dance classes in the New Year. They went when they could make it, or could be fucked to bother to try. Luckily, they learned a few steps that have them easily tearing up the floor at this charity event. 

Charity events are their bread and butter. They go, drop a fat check, eat food, mingle with their democratic peers, and take off. Rey is too exhausted to do anything else these days, hitting the second trimester with an exhaustion and hormonal aura unmatched. She wonders how Ben even begins to handle her crabbiness in the early mornings, where she growls into the pillow as he barters for her to sit up and eat some eggs benedict with extra crispy bacon.

His grip tightens on her waist, and she refocuses on his face as he looks off to the side with a set face. She follows his eyeline.

And promptly regrets it.

She’s never seen Hux up close before, not only six feet away. He was twenty feet away at the debate, and the opposing candidate for President of the United States is in their midst with a shit-eating grin. Bazine Netal is on his arm, probably vying for a First Lady position where she can decorate the White House rose garden like some kind of black and dusty witch haunt.

They’re both wearing black and red, looking positively evil in comparison to their grey and blue. Ben’s jaw sets, and her hand comes up and manually moves it so he looks straight at her. “Keep dancing with me. Don’t focus on them.” 

Hux and Bazine enter an alike waltz to  _ A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square _ , and she locks lips with Ben to keep him from breaking contact and losing his beautiful little head. He nearly melts beneath her, and she can hear him growl so soft as she pulls away.

“I want him away from us.”

She reminds, “We don’t always get what we want, remember?” She reaches down and fluffs her skirt before he twirls her.

“I’ll kick his teeth in.” 

“You will not.”

He growls again, trying to intimidate her into thinking he very well might. She knows better, knows his loyalty to his mother would keep him from completely screwing the pooch.

Though he nearly does as Bazine swirls by her with a, “Slut.”

He stops, goes rigid. Rey tries to get him back to waltzing, but it’s futile as he lets go of her and clears his throat. “Got something to say, Miss Netal?” 

Hux and Bazine stop, and it’s a showdown in the middle of the dancefloor between some of the most powerful political figures in the current United States landscape. Other charity guests get the memo and vacate quickly, leaving them in a western type showdown.

Hux looks him up and down, before snorting. “You presume to talk to my girlfriend like that?” 

“You must be mistaken if you think your girlfriend can speak to my wife in such a matter.”

Hux laughs aloud, and Ben’s fist tightens up. Rey warns them both, “I don’t want trouble tonight, boys.”

Bazine guffaws, “Oh be fucking quiet and let the adults speak without a petulant little child interrupting.”

Rey is stunned, too offended to speak. She clutches a hand over her heart and stares at the cruel woman, who is laughing at her now. It reminds her of the girls at school who would pull on her buns to be mean. Bazine mistakenly continues, “You think I care about your stupid little feelings? You probably barely graduated college-“

Rey spits, “I graduated cum laude and I don’t need to gargle cock to get a fucking job.” Ben reaches out and grabs her arm before she can storm over and shove her to the floor, but she shakes him off and stays exactly where she is.

She continues though, because Rey can’t let things lie and she has a baby in her belly that she needs to fight for, “I hope you stop being such a miserable sad sack cunt. I really do, because this is going to give you wrinkles you fucking ugly bitch.”

Bazine flinches, and Rey drives the ice pick straight into her skull, “You’re going to prison with your miserable rat boyfriend after you guys lose this election. Mark my fucking words.” 

Then Rey tosses her hair over her shoulder, and looks to Ben. His jaw is still set, and he’s trembling. “Can we go now please?’

He nods, and gently grabs her bicep to pull her to turn around. Hux calls, “It would be a shame for her to believe in the skeletons in your closet, Solo.” 

Ben keeps walking, pulling her along and past peering guests. Her phone and lip gloss is in his slacks pocket, the only things she brought that night. He’s getting her to safety, that much is clear as he calls the driver with a low growl she doesn’t try to perceive.

Her blood is boiling instead, and she really cannot attempt a pleasant face as they’re greeted by photographers outside. He rushes her to the waiting car, opening up the door for her and holding her hand gently as she gets in with her giant ball gown. He slides in after, and demands, “Drive.”

The car’s tires squeals as they peel into traffic, and Rey looks over at him as he loosens his tie and breathes hard. She clutches at her stomach, in a weak effort to protect them from the big bad universe that threatens their entire being.

She finds herself saying, “I don’t want my child growing up in a country where that man wins.”

He agrees, glumly, “ **Ditto** .” 

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome to this fun ride. thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah)
> 
> work and chapter title is inspired by [”the last great american dynasty” by taylor swift](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Eeur20xVqfUoM3Q7EFPFt?si=WO-XjE9iQnOXCTvFQhClnQ)


End file.
